


The One that Got Away

by Blodeuwedd



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 19:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17924537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blodeuwedd/pseuds/Blodeuwedd
Summary: A break-up makes Ian wonder if Mickey was the one that got away, the one and only love of his life that he threw away without noticing. He manages to track him down after several years with no news of him, but is it too late?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Shameless Big Bang 2018/2019

_(cover art by Ashja)_

 

 

 

 “It’s not my fault if you’re fucking crazy!”

 

Ah! There it is! It was about time his diagnosis came back to bite him in the ass. Again.

 

Ian sighs. It’s always the same old story, isn’t it? He tells the guy he’s dating about his disorder, they assure him it doesn’t matter, but at the first fight they make sure to bring it up and throw it in his face. But what’s the alternative - hiding it? He’s tried that, too, but that comes with a side of _‘how could you not trust me with this before’_ and _‘did you really think I would leave you because of that?’_ The answer to both questions would come shortly after when they did, in fact, leave him, though of course there was always an excuse. ‘We’re not compatible,’ ‘I’m focusing on my studies,’ ‘it’s just not working,’ ‘it’s not you, it’s me;’ anything that could justify for Ian and for themselves the fact that they were dumping the “crazy guy” but they were still good people. Yeah, right.

 

He doesn’t bother arguing, just lets him ago, another one on his long list of ex-boyfriends, another failed relationship for him to pick up the pieces of. So be it. He’s got a lot of experience with that. Anthony, John, Tom, Richard, Phillip (always called Phil because fucking a guy with your brother’s name is super weird), Gabriel, Trevor, Caleb, Mickey. Mickey. God, he hasn’t thought about Mickey in such a long time. His blue eyes quickly come to memory, followed by his ass, because let’s be honest, it’s what Ian was mostly focused on at the time. Then his lips, so plump and soft against his own; his fingers, playing with Ian’s hair, gently calming him down; his voice, reassuring him everything would be alright; his laughter, on those few months when they had been truly happy; his smell, a mix of sweat and cigarettes and alcohol that was just so _Mickey_ that the memory of it makes Ian’s heart ache.

 

Damn, he misses Mickey. Who would have thought the dirty thug he grew up with, who hadn’t even finished school and whose dad was an abusive asshole, would end up being the sweetest, most understanding boyfriend he’d ever have? He should never have broken up with Mickey, he thinks, even though he knows it’s a futile thought and most likely wrong. Who knows what Mickey would have been like if they hadn’t broken up? He’d gone to jail right after, was supposed to stay there for a long time, so what was Ian to do? Wait forever? No, he knows he did the right thing. Still, his mind can’t help but be filled with ‘what-ifs’.

 

He wonders how Mickey is doing. Is he even still alive? Is he still in Chicago? Ian hasn’t seen any of the Milkoviches in years, but then again, he himself has barely been to the Southside in the past five years. He doesn’t even know if the Milkoviches still live there.

 

His curiosity getting the best of him, and his prudence thrown to the wind as he has a bout of impetuosity, he quickly makes his way to the Southside, trying not to think why he’s suddenly so interested in finding out what happened to Mickey, trying to quiet the voice in his head telling him Anthony was right - he is crazy, his meds are off, something is wrong and he’s acting up.

 

It’s mere curiosity, he tells himself. Nothing wrong with curiosity.

 

Curiosity quickly gives way to frustration as he sits in his car in front of what used to be the Milkovich house. It was demolished, along with the house that used to be next to it (the Jones’s? Johnson’s? Something like that) and in their place stands a five-story building with brand new painting and a tall fence around it. Sign of the times, Ian figures.

 

The disappointing trip does nothing to discourage his spirits. On the contrary, he’s now even more determined to find his first serious boyfriend.

 

Social media. Everyone is on social media, right? He tries them all: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, even LinkedIn, but to no avail. Mickey Milkovich was either dead or hiding from the world, and knowing him, both possibilities were equally likely.

 

He gives up on Mickey for the time being and tries Mandy next, feeling rewarded when he quickly finds her on Instagram. Or at least what he assumes it’s her. It’s a private account and the profile picture is of a girl with her long black hair on her face, but he thinks it kind of looks like her, so he sends her a follow request and waits. And waits. And waits.

 

His hope starts to fade after a few hours go by, but they nearly disappear after a full day is over. He’s been thinking of what to do next in order to find Mickey when finally his phone pings with the notification that Mandy Milkovich has accepted his follow request. More than that, she’s followed him back. Even better, she’s sent him a message.

 

**Mandy: Well, hello stranger. Remembered you used to have a friend with this name, did you?**

 

He laughs at her sarcasm. She’s right, he deserves to be roasted.

 

**Ian: I missed you** \- he replies right after. **How are you doing? Still in NYC?**

 

**Mandy: Yeah. I’m fine, just had a baby. Sorry if I took too long to answer your request by the way, he was born last month, I’m still adjusting.**

 

**Ian: Really? That’s wonderful, congratulations!**

 

**Mandy: Thanks. :) How about you? What made you miss me suddenly?**

 

**Ian: Long story short, bad breakup, missed Mickey, missed you.**

 

**Mandy: Ah! So it’s Mickey you’re after. It figures. I should have learned by now it was never me.**

 

**Ian: I did miss you!**

 

**Mandy: So… you don’t want his number then?**

 

**Ian: Well, I guess it would be nice to talk to him. I’m glad to know he’s still alive.**

 

**Mandy: Ha! Milkoviches don’t die so easily, I’m afraid.**

 

But she doesn’t send his number, or any other message for that matter. Ian waits a few minutes until he gives up and resumes watching the show he had been watching when she answered, figuring she must be busy with the baby.

 

He can’t focus though. His mind keeps wandering back to Mickey, to all they went through together. He remembers with a soft smile the first time they had sex, how surprised he was and how completely in love he fell after that. He dived head first, and he can now, after many years and many failed relationships, recognize that as his M.O. He always goes too hard, too fast, feeling his heart beating faster for the other guy within just a few dates, if that much. He scares them away, if not on the spot, then eventually. He’s too intense. Sure, part of it he can blame on his being bipolar, but he has been in treatment for a long time now, he can’t keep using that excuse forever. He’s tried to change, go slowly, take his time, but inside he’s always boiling. It’s difficult for guys to keep up with him. He doesn’t blame them. Well, not too much.

 

His phone beeps with an incoming message and he nearly jumps from the couch in his hurry to read it, never mind that the phone was just on the coffee table.

 

**Mandy: Sorry, busy with the baby. Here’s the number. Just so you know, he’s living in California now. Good luck! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. ;)**

 

Ian chuckles at that, because he can’t imagine there’s much Mandy Milkovich wouldn’t actually do. He sends a quick thank you message and saves Mickey’s phone number on his contacts. It feels surreal to write the name ‘Mickey’ once more (he briefly thinks about writing just Mick, but concludes that would be too intimate for the moment - hopefully in the near future though).

 

He opens the messenger app and pauses. What is he even going to say? **Hi Mickey, remember me, your crazy boyfriend?**

 

Well, he definitely can’t say that.

 

**Hello, Mickey**

 

He wrinkles his nose, disgusted at himself. That’s terrible, way too formal.

 

**Dear Mickey**

 

Ugh, what is he, sixty?

 

**Sup, Mick?**

 

Oh great, now he’s back to the 90’s.

 

**Hi Mickey**

 

There. Good. Simple.

 

**Hi Mickey, this is Ian Gallagher. Remember me?**

 

No, delete that. He doesn’t need to know if Mickey ever thinks about him or not. But damn, he hopes he does.

 

**Hi Mickey, this is Ian Gallagher. Mandy gave me your number. I was hoping we could talk.**

 

Nah, back at formal again.

 

**Hi Mickey, this is Ian Gallagher. Mandy gave me your number. I’ve been thinking about you.**

 

DELETE! What’s wrong with his mind? He can’t send that! Mickey will read way too much into it. And he doesn’t even know if Mickey is available or interested at all. Sure Mandy seemed to think so, but he knows Mickey’s pretty good at keeping his private life, well, private.

 

**Hi Mickey, this is Ian Gallagher. Mandy gave me your number. Hope you don’t mind. What have you been up to?**

 

He contemplates adding an emoji to lighten up, but gives up after he spends five whole minutes trying to find something that will say ‘I haven’t seen you in years but I’m lonely now and I miss you so let’s talk maybe?’. Taking a deep breath, he hits send.

 

He stares at the phone, thinking it’ll probably be a while before Mickey responds so he might as well do something else to distract himself, but before he can even lock the phone, it shows that Mickey has received his message - and seen it.

 

His eyes go wide and he panics for a second, his heart beating a mile a minute. Oh god, what has he done? He shouldn’t have sent that. Should he have sent that? Oh god, what does Mickey think of it? Is he going to be happy to hear from him again? Or does he hold a grudge at Ian for breaking up with him? Damn it, of course he holds a grudge. What was he thinking? He never should have… *ping*

 

**Mickey: Sure man, what’s up with you? It’s good to hear from you. I’m in Cali now, work in a restaurant, can you believe it?**

 

No, he can’t believe it. He can’t believe any of it. He can’t believe Mickey has an actual, honest job. He can’t believe he works in a restaurant. He can’t believe Mickey is in California and he also can’t believe he’s the kind of person who says ‘Cali’. Most of all, he can’t believe he texted back.

 

A huge grin spreads across his face and he relaxes, lying down on the couch to answer.

 

**Ian: That’s amazing. I’m happy for you. I’m an EMT actually. Can YOU believe it?**

 

Before he can overthink it, he quickly adds a meme gif of the Queer Eye guy with the long hair saying _Can you believe?!_ He wonders if Mickey’s even going to know who that is, but Mickey immediately sends back a laughing emoji, so he takes it as a good sign. And apparently, Mickey is also the kind of guy who sends emojis now. Cool.

 

**Ian: What are you doing right now?**

 

He finally gets to talk to Mickey, he isn’t about to give that up just yet, so he tries to get the conversation going. He realizes, belatedly, how creepy his question sounds considering how long they didn’t speak for, so he quickly fires a follow-up text.

 

**If you don’t mind me asking.**

 

**Mickey: Not much. Watching a show on Netflix, drinking some beer and hanging out with my cat. And you?**

 

**And no, I don’t mind at all.**

 

 

Winky emoji. Mickey’s sent him a winky emoji. Ian can’t help the way heat rises to his cheeks and his palms get sweaty. He puts the phone down on his stomach for a moment and takes a deep breath, then another. There he goes diving straight to the deep end again. He can’t do that, he’ll just ruin any chance he’s got. He takes yet another deep breath before typing out his response.

 

**Ian: Making dinner** \- he lies. He can’t just tell him the truth, can’t just say _I’m lying on my couch doing absolutely nothing but wait for you to reply._ And he indeed should get started on dinner, so it’s only half a lie.

 

**What show? And you have a cat, that’s cool. What’s his/her name?**

 

**Mickey: What are you making? I could use a suggestion, I’ve got no idea what I’m eating tonight.**

 

**His name is Rajah.**

 

Ian stares at his phone, panicking for a second. What he’s making? What _is_ he making? He’s scrambling to remember what he even has in his fridge when his phone pings again and wow, ok. That’s the most beautiful cat he’s ever seen. It’s huge, with long orange hair and bright green eyes.

  


**Look at this asshole** \- says Mickey under the picture, and the fact that he calls the cat an asshole just tells Ian how much he actually likes his pet. That’s Mickey’s way of saying ‘angel’. And just like that, he’s the same old Mickey again, and Ian relaxes once more. He knows this guy, he knows how to talk to him.

 

**Ian: You have always liked a ginger**

 

**Mickey: Still do**

 

Ian feels his cheeks getting warm. Mickey’s flirting with him, there’s no mistaking it.

 

**I’m still ginger** \- he types, cringing at his cheesiness before deleting it

 

**So is Rajah the only ginger in your life?** \- no no no what is he thinking? He’s already flirting with Mickey, he can’t appear _that_ desperate.

 

**Ian: He’s really beautiful**

 

There, a neutral answer.

 

**Ian: I’m making pasta. I gotta go, actually, it’s nearly ready. TTYL**

 

He locks his phone and leaves it on the couch, darting for the kitchen. Not that the idea of dinner is that appealing, he’d much rather stay on the phone with Mickey forever, but he’s trying to pace himself for once. He makes dinner and plays some video game, avoiding his phone with a lot of effort. He’s rewarded in the end when he finally checks it just before heading to bed.

 

**Mickey: Sure thing. It was nice talking to you. Thanks for reaching out. Sweet dreams, Ian.**

 


	2. Chapter 2

****

**Mickey: He likes his new scratcher**

  
  


Ian smiles when he sees the message upon waking up. He and Mickey have been exchanging messages daily for the past two weeks and they mostly consist of pictures of Rajah or their food and comments on work or whatever they’ve just watched on Netflix. 

 

Ian has been dying for more. He wants to call Mickey and hear his voice, he wants pictures of his handsome face and videos of him so he can pretend he wasn’t so far away. He has a plan though. And he figures after two weeks, it’s finally time for them to move forward.

 

He replies to the picture with a heart emoji because Rajah is, indeed, very cute, and continues with his day as usual, not texting Mickey anything else. Once evening comes, he sends Mickey a picture of two of his favorite button-downs, one black and the other a dark shade of green, with the caption  **Which one?** .

 

Just as Ian had hoped he would, Mickey asks him to try them on. He does, sending Mickey two mirror selfies, doing his best to appear sexy while not too on-the-nose about it. 

 

**Mickey: Is it a date?**

 

Yeah, a date with the couch, Ian thinks, while typing  **Yeah.**

 

**Mickey: Then the green one. Brings out your eyes.**

 

Well, that was underwhelming. Ian had been hoping for Mickey to get at least a bit jealous. He sighs and drops himself down on the bed. He was so stupid. What did he think he was, a teenage girl in a rom-com? He groans. What is he even doing, playing games with Mickey? Who says Mickey is even interested in him? He doesn’t even know if he’s really interested in Mickey again or if it’s just nostalgia hitting him and making him see Mickey through rose-colored lenses.

 

He sends out a quick thank you, trying to make sense of his thoughts and figure out his next move. He figures there’s a chance he’s only entertaining the idea of Mickey again because it’s comfortable. He knows Mickey, flaws included, so there wouldn’t be any unpleasant surprises. Mickey knows him too, including his disorder, and he’s dealt with it before (he was there for the worst of it, Ian reminds himself), so he wouldn’t bolt because of that. And, more importantly, Mickey is far away in California. He’s safe. Ian can text him and flirt with him all he wants, because at the end of the day there won’t be any consequences for his actions. They’re not in a relationship, Ian doesn’t have to open up to someone new and, most of all, he won’t get hurt.

 

He sighs. He almost wishes he hadn’t had that epiphany. Now he’ll have to do something about it.

 

Quickly making up his mind before his courage leaves him, he gets dressed up in the green shirt Mickey chose and heads to Boystown. He figures at the very least he can hook up with someone and forget about Mickey for a while.

 

The fact that the guy he chooses is short and dark-haired doesn’t escape Ian’s perception, and neither does the fact that he still sees Mickey’s face when he closes his eyes while fucking his look-alike. Oh, well. One step at a time.

 

****************************

 

**Mickey: How was your date?**

 

Ian smiles when he sees the message on his phone. He guiltily looks down at the guy asleep on the bed and cringes. He should have left  _ before _ unlocking his phone, he doesn’t want the bright light to wake him up. 

 

He tiptoes out of the room, then out of the apartment, sighing in relief when he gets outside. He feels a little bit like a jerk, but hey, he was pretty clear with what’s-his-name that all he wanted was a hook-up, it wasn’t his fault that the guy had fallen asleep after only two rounds.

 

**Ian: Effective**

 

He texts Mickey back while he waits for the Uber that will pick him up.

 

**Mickey: Are you doing the walk of shame right now?**

 

**Ian: Of course not!**

 

**Ian: Did that 5 min ago, waiting for Uber**

 

The car arrives and he gets in before checking Mickey’s reply.

 

**Mickey: Ha! Of course you are. Get home safely.**

 

**Ian: Will do. How was your day?**

 

**Mickey: Same old, same old. Still at the restaurant, working late again. Dean was bugging me about the new system.**

 

Ian knows Dean is the manager, while Mickey is the assistant manager, and the new system is the digital managing and financial system that is being installed at the restaurant. He also knows installing the new system was Mickey’s idea and Dean is breathing down his neck to get everything updated to the new system so they can launch it the following week. Normally Mickey only works late a few nights, despite working at a restaurant, but for the past ten days or so he’s been working late every night. He’s pissed, but confident it will be worth it and, Ian suspects, proud of himself, too.

 

Ian knows all this because he and Mickey have been in touch every day for the past three months. They’ll text each other about pretty much anything, ranging from the weather or Rajah to work-related concerns, going through games they’ve been playing, political news and whether or not peanuts are nuts (the answer to that being no, much to Ian’s surprise and Mickey’s joy). They text, they send each other audio messages, photos and occasionally even videos. It’s always the highlight of Ian’s day - seeing Mickey’s name on a new notification never fails to make him smile.

 

**Ian: Take deep breaths. It’ll be over next week.**

 

**Mickey: I’m just praying it goes off without a glitch or I’m screwed. By a horse. With no lube.**

 

**Ian: Gross, but to the point.**

 

**Mickey: Sorry, gotta keep working. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.**

 

**Ian: Sure thing. ;)**

  
  


Ian locks his phone again and stares out the window, thinking about his current relationship with Mickey. They’re friends. They’re friends who are constantly talking to each other in some capacity, even though they live far from each other, who know pretty much everything there is to know about the other and who care about each other. They’re best friends. It isn’t what Ian wanted when he sought out Mickey, but he finds he doesn’t mind it much. He gets Mickey’s love and support and he gets to have him in his life again, which is more than he had three months ago. Yeah, he wanted more in the beginning, but it wouldn’t have worked anyway, with them living so far away as they were. 

 

Plus, Ian wasn’t ready. He still isn’t ready. He’s realized, or rather, Lip has thrown it at his face, that he has never really been single for very long. He always found a way to enter a relationship nearly as soon as the old one was over, and twice  _ before _ the old one was over. Lip called him a serial boyfriend and Ian very maturely retorted that it took one to know one. It backfired because Lip argued that his own experience was exactly why he thought Ian need to be single for a while, since Lip himself has been alone for over a year and, according to himself, has never been happier. He’s thrown himself on his career, he’s been exercising more, even reading more, and he’s discovered he likes his own company. Ian was quiet after that. He didn’t quite know how to tell his brother that he was afraid he would despise his own company.

 

He was shocked when he realized he didn’t mind being alone that much. He’s read more in the past three months than pretty much his whole lifetime, he’s been to parks and museums and other places he’d mostly never been to before, he’s on a better sleeping schedule and he’s planning on starting to study to be a paramedic soon. And it isn’t like he is completely alone. He has his family, friends, Mickey… That’s more than enough to keep him going.

 

***********************

**Ian: I hate this place**

 

Ian copies a picture of the weather forecast for the following week under the message.

 

Mickey sends back a grinning emoji with the weather forecast for San Francisco. Son of a bitch.

 

**Ian: Son of a bitch**

 

**Mickey: Hahah sorry, can’t control the weather**

 

**Ian: I’m so jealous right now. Wish I could be there. I’m gonna ducking freeze!**

 

**Ian: Ducking**

 

**Ian: I mean ducking**

 

**Ian: FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCKING**

  
**Mickey: hahahaha**

**Mickey: You should come over**

 

**Mickey: Come to the bright side Ian**

 

**Mickey: We have the sun**

 

**Ian: Ugh I wish I could**

 

**Mickey: Why not? Can’t you take some time off?**

 

Ian pauses, thinking. He does have some overdue vacation days. And he’s got enough saved to afford the plane tickets.

 

**Ian: Can I crash on your couch?**

 

**Mickey: Do you even have to ask?**

 

*********************

 

Ian looks at his boss, biting his lip. He’s been trying to ask her for some time off the whole day, but there never seems to be a right time. His shift is over now, so he must act quickly or he’ll miss his opportunity for the time being. Luckily, she’s also done for the day, so they walk together back to the changing rooms.

 

“Hey, Lena. You, uhm, think I can get some time off? I, erm, I have some vacation days overdue and I was thinking about visiting a friend.”

 

“Sure. Where are you going?”

 

“San Francisco.”

 

“Ooh, I’d kill for some warm weather now.”

 

“So, yes?”

 

“Yeah, but I’ll have to get back to you on dates, ok? Probably not for a week at least. How long?”

 

“Hm… a couple weeks?”

 

“Yeah, ok. Let me check and I’ll tell you later.”

 

He nods, smiling. He can’t wait to visit San Francisco and to get rid of all the snow. But mostly, he can’t wait to see Mickey.

 

*********

Ian doesn’t have to wait long for an answer. His boss lets him know the following day that yes, he can take two weeks off; however, he’ll have to wait another two weeks before that, since she couldn’t get anyone to cover for him before that. A tiny hint of disappointment hits him before he realizes two weeks isn’t long to wait and he actually got lucky since it gives him plenty of time to prepare. 

 

The first thing he does is book his flight, a task which demands a lot more time from him than he thought it would, never having bought a plane ticket before. There are so many details to think about. Is he checking in a suitcase or can he put everything in a carry-on bag? Should he sit in the aisle, so he can exit more freely, or the window, so he can admire the city from above? Should he take a morning or an afternoon flight? So many things to decide! Do people just know this stuff? Is this something that is common knowledge to everyone but him?

 

He takes several deep breaths and, after nearly an hour and getting logged off because his time had expired a few times, he finally manages to book a flight. He sighs in relief after getting the confirmation e-mail, and a wide grin spreads across his face. He’s seeing Mickey. He’s really seeing Mickey.

 

He takes a picture of the computer screen with the confirmation and sends it to Mickey.

 

**Ian: Too late to take it back now**

 

**Mickey: Fuck! I was just about to cancel it.**

 

**Ian: What? Really? Why?**

 

**Mickey: lol jk you’re too easy**

 

**Ian: Asshole**

 

**Mickey: So, what do you wanna do here?**

 

**Ian: Dunno, what’s there to do?**

 

**Mickey: Do I look like Google? I’ve got work to do Gallagher. Research that stuff on your own. Just let me know so I can see which things I’ll do with you and which I’ll leave you on your own to die.**

 

**Ian: Die of what? What is there in SF that could kill me?**

 

**Mickey: Well, the bears can be pretty aggressive.**

 

**Ian: Lol go work Mick**

 

He takes Mickey’s advice and spends the next several hours searching online for cool things to do in San Francisco (Golden Gate yes, aquarium no, the Castro hell yes, bus tour hell no). He prepares a spreadsheet with his ideal schedule, color-coded according to how much he wants to do each activity and which ones can be skipped, then sends a picture of it to Mickey.

 

**Mickey: Wow! That’s organized!**

 

**Ian: I found out it’s easier for me to keep on schedule if I organize and plan ahead. If I have nothing to do, I tend to either do nothing or to do something stupid.**

 

Ian wonders if Mickey will think him weird for overplanning what’s supposed to be a relaxing trip. If he didn’t know himself he’d think it weird as well. He knows, however, that he needs structure and at least a resemblance of a routine. It’s something he struggled with when he first started his job, with the long shifts followed by long periods of inactivity. He’d just started getting used to taking his meds at the correct time, and since his days varied so much, it was chaotic, so his doctor suggested a schedule. Over the years, he learned that writing down his tasks, making lists and timetables, i something that indeed helps him. It doesn’t mean there’s no spontaneity in his life, of course there is, but going off-schedule is only possible when there is a schedule in the first place. If he left everything to be decided on the spot, he knows he’d get nothing done. So when it came to planning a trip, it was only natural that he did it the way he is used to planning everything else in his life. He just forgot that this isn’t something Mickey is used to, or even knows about. Sure, Mickey used to know him inside and out, but that was years ago, and he’s changed a lot since the last time they were actually that close. 

He braces himself for the words he normally hears from other people when he reveals one of his oddities to them: crazy, mad, insane…

 

**Mickey: That makes sense**

 

He does a double take, eyes wide, then sighs in relief. That isn’t the reaction he was expecting, but it’s a better one. So, so much better.

 

**Mickey: I do something similar for the restaurant. It’s all about planning ahead. Leaving it to fate is a recipe for disaster.**

 

**Mickey: Pun not intended XD**

 

Ian feels his heart doing somersaults in his chest as an intense feeling of affection and caring for Mickey comes over him. He realizes he isn’t the only one who’s changed, Mickey has too. Of course the fundamentals of who they were remain the same, but they’ve grown, learned, evolved as people. 

 

**Mickey: Share that with me?**

 

The wave of tenderness and love in his heart suddenly becomes a tsunami, encompassing his whole being. Mickey understanding him and, what’s more, wanting to participate in something with him, makes the deep feelings he has for the other man resurface stronger than ever. Ian has always felt misunderstood, left out, uncared for. Knowing that somewhere in the world there’s someone who understands him, cares for him and wants him in his life makes his heart swell with happiness and a few tears slip down his cheeks.

 

He was hoping to leave his old feelings behind and focus on their friendship. Ian doesn’t have any real close friends, so the easy camaraderie he’s developed with Mickey lately feels good, natural. Now, however, he’s beginning to think those feelings are never going to leave him for good. The best he can do is try to hide them until they subside a little. It’s clear that Mickey only sees him as a friend and doesn’t want any romantic relationship with him. Pushing it would only break their friendship, and that is something Ian isn’t willing to risk.

 

He ponders how he’ll be able to spend two weeks next to Mickey without giving anything away, but he figures between his family and his co-workers, he’s now a pro at hiding his feelings.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been to San Francisco, so sorry if there are any incongruencies!

 

The next couple of weeks seem to fly and crawl at the same time. It seems like it takes forever for the day of his flight to arrive, but then once he blinks, it’s there. His things are packed, of course; they’ve been packed for the last three days, although he’s changed the items on his suitcase a thousand times already, to the point where he deliberately closed and locked the suitcase so he couldn’t change his mind once more. 

 

He leaves for the airport four hours before the flight, even though it only takes about an hour to get there. It’s not like he’ll manage to sleep anymore anyway. Anxiety’s got the best of him and is not letting go until he finally sees Mickey. He takes a cab, idly passing the time by looking at social media apps on his phone, then playing a game when that gets boring. He doesn’t text Mickey to tell him he’s on the way, knowing it’s the middle of the night there. Also, he feels like he’d be oversharing and just being annoying, so he doesn’t, as much as he wants to. 

 

He’s on the fence about Mickey. For the past two weeks he’s gone from happy to see Mickey again, because Mickey’s his friend and it’s great that he gets to hang out with him again, to terrified that the way he feels about Mickey is way beyond platonic and it’ll ruin any friendship they have, and then back and forth and everywhere in between. 

 

He ends up arriving too soon, and walks around the airport, a weird mix of nervous and bored. The hours seem to drag by while he attempts to focus on a mystery book he’s been reading, only managing to advance a few pages before he gives up entirely. He tells himself he’s nervous because he’s never flown before. 

 

The flight itself isn’t much better, except this time he is actually nervous about flying and not Mickey. The long description of what to do in case of emergencies doesn’t help much, and neither does the pain in his ears. He finds the whole thing very uncomfortable and vaguely wonders if it would be possible to cancel his return flight and catch a bus instead. How some people manage to do this on a regular basis is beyond him.

 

He manages to relax a little when they bring some snacks and he finally gets into the book, and it seems like no time has passed at all before they are announcing the imminent landing. He closes his book and looks out the window. He can’t see much from his aisle seat, but he catches glimpses of land passing by. They seem to be getting closer and closer and Ian tries to calm his racing heart by telling himself that they’re landing, so getting closer to the ground is what’s supposed to happen. 

 

That works until the land changes to deep blue water. Water? Why is there water? They can’t land on water. Where did the land go? His fingertips grip his thighs and his eyes go wide. Why is no one screaming? Is this normal? It must be, right? If it weren’t, someone would be saying something.

 

Then it’s over and there’s land once more and he’s barely taken a deep breath when the plane hits the ground smoothly, barely shaking. He relaxes on his seat once more. He did it. He’s in California.

 

He follows the other passengers around the many hallways and gates and though the whole process takes a while, at least he doesn’t get lost. He steps into tehe lobby, wher families are waiting for the other passengers, and looks around. Mickey said he’d try to make it, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to, since he had to work. Ian walks through the crowd looking for a short black-haired guy, but he can’t spot him anywhere. He can’t help but feel a bit let down, even though he knows it’s not Mickey’s fault. 

 

He stops near a wall so as not to stand into anyone’s path and turns his phone back on so he can check if Mickey’s sent him any messages.

 

“Yo, Gallagher!”

 

Ian’s head snaps up so fast he nearly gets whiplash. If his name getting called wasn’t enough to draw his attention, that voice would. There he is, Mickey Milkovich in the flesh, looking exactly like he did all those years before, if slightly more tanned (he  _ does _ live in California after all). He’s wearing a navy sweatshirt, his sunglasses hanging from the collar, washed-out jeans, and black Nikes, the whole look really simple and casual but still completely suiting him. He’s smiling as he walks over to Ian, a large cup in each hand.

 

“Sorry I’m late. I wanted these to still be cold.” He shows Ian the milkshakes he’s holding. “Chocolate or strawberry?”

 

Ian has imagined the moment he and Mickey would be face to face again several times. Sometimes he’d imagine they’d get emotional and hug, other times he imagined they’d make small talk about the way they looked now and how much time had passed, and still some other times he figured it might be awkward and they’d get stuck in a weird silence. Never, not even once, did he imagine Mickey would offer him a milkshake. It’s one of the things he loves about Mickey, how he always manages to surprise him in the best ways.

 

“Strawberry.”

 

“Pussy.”

 

Ian laughs loudly, then takes a few sips of his milkshake. It’s sweet and refreshing and he hums in delight.

 

Mickey takes his suitcase and starts walking, motioning with his head for Ian to follow him. 

 

“You don’t have to carry that for me.”

 

“Nah, it’s fine. ‘Sides, I’m just pulling it, it’s not like it’s a big effort.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“It’s got wheels, Ian. And you’re already carrying your backpack. Are you sure you’re only staying for two weeks, by the way? Or did you forget to tell me you’re moving in?”

 

Ian snorts. “Sorry. I didn’t really know what to bring, and I wanted to be prepared for anything.”

 

Mickey drinks on his milkshake and shrugs. “Suit yourse… ow!” He frowns and puts a hand to his forehead.

 

“What’s wrong?” Ian asks, worried.

 

“Brain freeze!”

 

“Ha! Idiot.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Put your tongue to the roof of your mouth.”

 

He watches as Mickey does as he’s told, visibly relaxing within seconds.

 

“Thanks. Nice trick. Learned that in EMT school?”

 

“Yeah, actually. Though not as a medical emergency of course, just a curiosity. Your head hurts when something really cold hits the roof of your mouth, which is even more likely to happen when you’re drinking from a straw, but putting your tongue on the area affected helps the temperature go back down faster, so your headache disappears too.”

 

Mickey raises one eyebrow. “Thanks, doctor Ian.”

 

They reach the parking lot and Mickey leads him to his car, a black sedan with tinted windows, opening the passenger door for him before putting his suitcase on the trunk.

 

Ian gets inside and drops his backpack on the backseat before putting on his seatbelt. 

 

“You tired?” Mickey asks, turning on the ignition.

 

“Surprisingly, no. Figure I should be, but it hasn’t kicked in yet. I’m hungry though.”

 

Mickey grins at him, the gesture so familiar Ian’s hit with a wave of nostalgic tenderness.

 

“Let’s take a detour then.”

 

Mickey puts on some music, the old rock tunes boosting Ian’s feelings of familiarity. He sings along, tapping his fingers on his thighs as he looks out the window. It’s a sunny day, but a slightly cold breeze blows in through the partly open windows. Most of the people on the streets are wearing long coats however, as well as scarves and woolen hats.

 

“Why are the people so dressed up? It’s not so cold.”

 

Mickey snorts. “Maybe not for you who’s used to Chicago weather. This is what very cold feels like for people here.”

 

“Are you cold?”

 

“Not as much as them, but probably more than you.” 

 

He continues watching the people on the streets, comparing everything he sees to what he normally sees in Chicago. He analyses the people and the houses, the cars, the roads, the parks, the stores… everything is mesmerizing to him. He makes a comment here and there (and Mickey responds to all of them), but mostly he keeps to himself, too busy observing life go by in California.

 

He’s still singing along and looking around when he sees something that makes him gasp.

 

“The bridge! Mick, is that the Golden Gate?”

 

“Yep.”

 

His eyes widen. “Is  _ that _ where we’re going?”

 

“Not exactly. Well, not yet. I’ve got something else in mind for now.”

 

“Then where are we going?”

 

“You’ll see.”

 

“Give me a clue.”

 

“It’s a surprise, Gallagher, let it go. We’re almost there anyway.”

 

His curiosity piqued, Ian bites his lips to stop himself from asking more questions. He tries to keep his eyes on the road ahead, but keeps stealing glances at Mickey purely to tease him. Finally Mickey can’t help but laugh. 

 

“Stop looking at me and look out your window, dumbass.”

 

Ian grins at him and turns his head, jaw dropping immediately when he sees the clear blue water of the Pacific Ocean.

 

“Holy fuck!” 

 

“Ian, meet the Pacific Ocean. Pacific Ocean, meet Ian.”

 

Ian keeps staring at it, the nearly setting sun casting its still bright light on it, the water shining nearly silver  with the reflexion. He barely notices when Mickey parks the car, enthralled as he is.

 

Mickey opens the door on his side and exits, and Ian quickly follows, excited.

 

“The beach!? We’re going to the beach!?”

 

Mickey grins and Ian can tell he’s proud of himself.

 

“Figured you’d want to see it asap. Did I get it right?” 

 

“Yes! Yes, you definitely did!”

 

Mickey opens the trunk and gets a backpack out.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Food. I don’t know about you, but I could eat a horse. Come on.”

 

He follows Mickey down a short winded path and there it is, a small beach surrounded by rocks with the ocean right ahead. To the right there’s a clear view of the Golden Gate Bridge and the sun is nearly setting slightly to the left, still clearly visible. There’s no one at the beach, but considering how small it is and the low temperatures, that isn’t at all surprising. Ian inhales deeply, smelling the ocean breeze, closing his eyes as he listens to the sound of the waves crashing into the sand. It’s colder here and he shivers a bit inside his simple hoodie, but he doesn’t mind it at all.

 

When he opens his eyes Mickey has set a blanket on the sand and spread some food on it. There are grapes and cherries, sandwiches, some chocolate for dessert, a couple beers and plain water. Mickey gets some hand wipes and cleans his hands from the dirt of the car and the road and Ian sits down next to him and does the same.

 

Mickey almost immediately goes for the grapes, while Ian carefully eats the cherries. They eat in silence, moving on to the sandwiches and the beers next while the sun slowly sets above the ocean, its waters reflecting the orange and violet hues of the sky. Ian studies Mickey’s profile. He’s looking at the sunset, his skin glowing under the last rays of sun, his hair ruffled from the cool breeze, a look of serenity relaxing his features, a slight smile on his lips.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Mickey asks.

 

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” Ian replies, eyes still fixed on Mickey.

 

After the sun disappears completely and they are involved by darkness, the lights of the houses behind and above them mixed with the crescent moonlight casting shadows on the sand, Mickey puts away the wrappers and containers and lies down on the blanket, breaking open the chocolate bar. Ian follows his lead and they share the chocolate in a tranquil silence. Ian closes his eyes and takes deep breaths, listening to the calming sound of the waves, allowing his body to relax and let go, enjoying the richness and smoothness of the chocolate melting in his mouth as he just lies there with Mickey, feeling peaceful and at ease with himself, something he hasn’t felt in a very, very long time (ever since he lived with Mickey and they’d lie in bed together after having sex, his brain informs him, but he shuts it down). 

 

He wakes up with Mickey shaking his shoulder. 

 

“Come on, man, you’re sleeping already. Let’s go.”

 

“Guess I’m…” he yawns widely “more tired than I realized.” He rubs his eyes and gets up. “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

Mickey’s apartment is small, but well decorated. The living room has a comfortable couch and an armchair, a glass coffee table and a large bookshelf with a widescreen TV in it. There’s a smaller space with a dining table and four wooden chairs around it, Rajah standing on the table and meowing loudly to greet them.

 

“Oh, hello there. Nice to meet you too.” He offers his hand for the cat to sniff and gets a lick in response, making him laugh.

 

“Oh, he likes me!”

 

“Either you or the tuna sandwich you had before.”

 

He laughs again, but it turns into another yawn.

 

“Ok, man, here you go. You can leave your stuff here, and here’s the couch. Bathroom’s there and you can help yourself with anything from the kitchen.” Mickey sets his suitcase on the floor and Ian puts his backpack on top of it.

 

He takes his stuff and heads for the shower, letting the water relax him from the long, if pleasant, day he’s had. When he gets out, already in pajamas, Mickey’s already pulled out the couch and made his bed, complete with two pillows. He nearly weeps with joy at the sight.

 

He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow and dreams of the ocean, sand and Mickey’s smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting and for all the nice comments, they're very encouraging. :)

Ian wakes up to the smell of coffee and hums while he stretches, his back a bit sore from the couch.

 

“You must have been really tired,” he hears Mickey speak, voice still slightly hoarse from sleep, “because I know for a fact my couch is not that comfortable.”

 

He sits up and smiles when he sees Rajah asleep on the coffee table.

 

“So, what are your plans for today again? Golden Gate, right?”

 

“Yup. Figure I might as well start with the most touristy thing possible.”

 

“Sounds good. I can take you if we go soon, but I gotta work this afternoon. You can have lunch with me at the restaurant if you want though. It’s a free meal.”

 

“Cool, thanks. Do I get to meet your coworkers?”

 

Mickey pauses, cup of coffee midway to his lips. 

 

“I regret suggesting it already.”

 

***********************************************

The Golden Gate Bridge is even bigger than Ian had imagined. Mickey has parked a few minutes away and they walked there, Ian getting more and more excited the closer he got. He takes a few pictures and makes short videos even before they get to a good observation point, and Mickey rolls his eyes at him dramatically. 

 

He takes even more pictures once he can see the full bridge, including all classical tourist ones, which Mickey offers to take for him. He takes a few selfies too, twisting the camera this way and that to make sure he has the right angle.

 

“I can take more pictures if you want to, you know.”

 

“I know, but I do want them to be selfies. Come on, take one with me.”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“Oh, come on.” He makes his best pouting puppy dog face and Mickey snorts.

 

“Yeah, ok, just make it quick.”

 

He stands next to Ian, who puts an arm around his shoulders and leans in closer, their cheeks nearly touching. He raises his other arm and, just as he takes the picture, Mickey squints his eyes and sticks his tongue out.

 

“Mickey!” he scolds, but Mickey is already laughing. “Come on, let’s take another one. Smile this time.”

 

He raises his arm once more, and Mickey smiles at the camera, but once more, just as Ian takes the picture, Mickey’s frowns and raises his middle finger.

 

“Can you stop that?”

 

Mickey clutches his stomach, wheezing from laughing so much.

 

“It’s not that funny, asshole. I’m trying to take a nice picture, here.”

 

Mickey raises his arms in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll smile this time, promise.”

 

They get closer again, Mickey’s arm holding Ian’s waist to bring him closer. This time Mickey does smile sweetly, and it’s Ian who messes around, turning at the last second to give Mickey a kiss on the cheek.

 

Mickey startles and pulls back a bit to look at Ian, who’s stifling his laughter. The corner’s of Mickey’s mouths go up just slightly as he shakes his head, clearly more amused than upset. They lock eyes and suddenly Ian feels like there’s an electric current between then, pulling them closer, charged with heat. His smile fades as his eyes flicker to Mickey’s lips and back to his eyes. He briefly licks his lips, eyes not leaving Mickey’s as he searches for a confirmation that Mickey wants to kiss him just as badly as he wants to kiss Mickey right now.

 

“Oh, aren’t you a cute couple! Do you want me to take your picture?”

 

They both step back, startled by the overly nice but totally clueless elderly lady who’s chosen the worst possible moment to compliment them. Mickey’s arm drops from Ian’s waist and he clears his throat.

 

“We’re not a couple” he says, way too quickly for Ian’s liking “but thanks.”

 

Ian clears his throat too, embarrassed. “Yeah, no, just friends. Totally. But, erm, yeah, a picture would be great.”

 

He hands the woman his phone and poses, standing next to Mickey but not touching him, the smile on his lips not quite reaching his eyes. Mickey, thankfully, doesn’t mess around this time and actually smiles for the picture. After the woman leaves he looks at the photo. It’s a nice one, they both look good and happy, and you can’t even tell they’ve just been through one of the most incredibly awkward moments of Ian’s life. 

 

They spend some more time at the bridge, but Ian’s mood has dropped fast and he doesn’t really feel like sightseeing anymore. Why did Mickey have to answer that woman so quickly? Sure, they weren’t boyfriends, but they had been at one point. It wasn’t that terrible of a thing for her to misunderstand, right? Besides, she said they were a  _ cute _ couple, she clearly wasn’t offended or trying to pick a fight with them, so why jump the gun like that? He tries to appease his own thoughts by telling himself that it was Mickey’s old fears and traumas that made him deny it so quickly, and not an aversion to being Ian’s boyfriend.

 

He forgets the awkward situation at the bridge as soon as they arrive at the restaurant and are greeted by an extremely friendly waitress.

 

“Hi, Mickey! Oh, you must be Ian!”

 

Ian looks at Mickey with a raised eyebrow. Mickey’s mentioned him to his co-workers? That’s curious. He wonders how much he’s told them.

 

“I just mentioned I had a childhood friend in town” Mickey explains, reading his expression, and Ian’s smile falters slightly. A childhood friend? He’s certainly a lot more than that!

 

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell us he was so handsome! I’m Tina, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

 

“He’s gay, so don’t hold your breath” Mickey answers before Ian can say anything. “Come on, Ian, let’s sit by the counter.”

 

Mickey leads him away just as more customers come in and Tina moves to greet them. She looks back at Ian before however and rolls her eyes dramatically, sticking her tongue out at Mickey and making Ian laugh. She’s too friendly and nice to make him feel uncomfortable and her comment was simply a compliment and not at all predatory, but he does like that Mickey seemed jealous over it.

 

They sit on the counter and Mickey introduces him to more people, all of whom treat him very well despite clearly being busy, the restaurant getting fuller by the minute. Mickey orders for them and they end up sharing a classic, yet delicious, pepperoni pizza. They eat in silence and Ian worries whether the silence is due to their mouths being full or if there’s a lingering awkwardness in the air. 

 

Once Mickey excuses himself and tells Ian he’s got to work, leaving him with a set of keys so he can go back to the apartment whenever he wants, Ian decides to visit a nearby museum dedicated to that part of town. He also talks a walking tour of the neighborhood, marveling at the history of it all and taking plenty of pictures. He’s fully aware of how much of a tourist stereotype he is acting as, but he doesn’t really care. It’s his first real opportunity to act like a tourist and actually enjoy himself, learn about a different place and culture and have some fun, and he doesn’t have time to pretend to be above all this. 

 

After he’s walked around for a while, he sits in a café and munches on a cinnamon roll, taking the time to recharge his phone, post some of the pictures on social media and update Mickey on his whereabouts. Mickey lets him know he’ll be working late, so Ian should head home by himself. 

 

He stays a bit longer at the cafe and finds out how to get to Mickey’s place from there, then decides to hop on a cable car to do that. After all, he couldn’t visit San Francisco and  _ not _ take a cable car. It doesn’t really take him very close to where he has to go, but he decides to go to one of the piers instead and watch the sunset from there, which turns out to be very beautiful, although not as much as on the previous day.

 

Tired, Ian finally takes a bus that leaves him close to Mickey’s place. He walks a bit, feeling the energy leaving his body with each step. He walks, relieved to finally be able to shower and rest, and is greeted by Rajah at the door. Ian scratches behind his ears and the cat leans into his hand, purring. He pours some food for Rajah, per Mickey’s request, and heads to the shower. He’s barely out, having just put on a pair of sweatpants, when the doorbell rings. He wonders briefly if Mickey’s given him his own keys instead of a copy, but he’s too tired to think it over, so he just opens the door, not bothering to confirm if it really is Mickey.

 

And it isn’t. In front of him is a tall guy with wavy orange hair, bright blue eyes, and a brilliant smile, wearing a simple t-shirt and sweatpants and carrying a plastic bag with take-out containers.

 

“Hey, honey, I brought din… Who are  _ you _ ?”

 

Ian could ask him the same thing.


	5. Chapter 5

Ian stares at the man in shock. Why is there a pretty twink at Mickey’s door bringing him food and calling him pet names?

 

“Dan? What are you doing here?”

 

Mickey’s voice comes from down the hallway and they both turn to face him.

 

“Mick, darling!” The guy, who apparently is called Dan, exclaims loudly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you had company!”

 

Mickey rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. Come on in.” He enters the apartment and Ian steps aside to let him in, watching warily as Dan follows him inside. 

 

“Ian, this is Daniel, my neighbor from the upper floor who sometimes comes down to annoy me. Dan, this is Ian, a friend from Chicago who’s visiting.” 

 

‘A friend from Chicago’ is not how Ian would like to be introduced to Mickey’s clearly gay neighbor, nor did it accurately depict their relationship. ‘Ex-boyfriend turned long distance friend who was actually his soulmate’  was more like it - but then again, that was quite a long title. At least ‘friend from Chicago’ was better than ‘childhood friend’. 

 

Mickey sets a couple of bags he’d also brought on the counter and Dan mimicks him, smiling widely.

 

“Nice to meet you Ian! Are you a friend or a  _ friend _ ?” He gives the word a suggestive inflection and bounces his eyebrows.

 

Mickey snorts. “Yeah, Ian and I used to date, but that was a long time ago.”

 

Dan looks him over, eyes slowly roaming his body. “Oh honey, why would you ever break up with him? Look at him, he’s gorgeous!”

 

He speaks as though Ian isn’t in the room and Ian, who is normally fairly confident, feels suddenly shy standing there in only his sweatpants, hair still wet from the shower and dripping over his chest and back. 

 

“Erm… sorry, I just got out of the shower. I’ll put on a shirt.” 

 

“Oh, no, don’t mind me!” Dan immediately waves his hands in front of him. “I’m being too much, aren’t I?”

 

“Yes” Mickey deadpans before Ian can even think of an answer.

 

“Ugh, I’m so sorry. I legit didn’t know you had company. I totally interrupted, didn’t I? I’m really sorry, Imma leave now.”

 

“Sit your ass down” Mickey tells Dan, literally pushing him towards the couch. “You brought dinner, I brought bread and dessert, it’s perfect and more than enough for the three of us. We were just going to have dinner and watch something on TV, maybe play a game, I don’t know. You’re more than welcome to join us. Right, Ian?”

 

Ian nods, slightly startled by the whole thing and the realization that he still hasn’t put a shirt on. 

 

“Oh, no! I mean, yes! No, you’re not interrupting, yes, you can totally stay” he stammers as he takes an old t-shirt that he normally wears to sleep and puts it on.

 

“See? Sit as well, I’ll bring the food.”

 

“We hooked up once” Dan announces as soon as Mickey turns his back.

 

“Daniel!”

 

“Whaaaaat? It’s not a secret! Is it?”

 

Ian is staring at him from the other side of the couch, stunned into silence.

 

“He was wondering about it anyway” Dan justifies himself to Mickey. “You  _ were _ wondering, weren’t you?”

 

“I… not really” he lies. Of course he was wondering it. And he hates knowing the answer now.

 

“It was just once though, when we met. When we were both young and naive…”

 

“You have never in your whole life been naive” Mickey interjects, setting the food on the coffee table and shooing Rajah away from it.

 

“It didn’t work out.” Daniel continues talking to Ian, ignoring Mickey’s remark. “Turns out we’re both power bottoms.”

 

Mickey scoffs again, opening a beer and sitting down on the armchair. “Bitch, I’m a power bottom, you’re just a regular bottom.”

 

Daniel giggles and shrugs, not offended. “It’s true.”

 

Ian smiles uncomfortably. As much as he hates knowing this clearly very attractive guy and Mickey once hooked up, he’s also relieved he at least knows about it, or it would have been the only thing on his mind for the whole evening.

 

“So, you’re a friend from Chicago, hm? You know, Mickey  _ never  _ talks about his life before moving here. All I’ve gotten from him was something about having a big family and being poor. So, come on, spill the tea - what was he like?”

 

“I’m going to put a movie on” Mickey announces, ignoring Dan.

 

“Was he a big a slut?” 

 

“How about a comedy?”

 

“Was he in the mafia?”

 

“Or maybe an action movie?”

 

“Has he ever been arrested?”

 

“Action it is!” Mickey says loudly, turning the volume up and saving Ian from having to actually answer any of Dan’s questions.

 

Daniel rolls his eyes at Mickey’s more than obvious tactic, but doesn’t insist. They sit in silence, munching away as they watch the movie, with occasional commentary by Daniel. The guy is actually pretty funny, as much as it pains Ian to admit, and he finds himself laughing at his comments more often than not. He’s loud and over-the-top, but also seems like a genuinely nice guy, and Ian can see why Mickey keeps him around (although he’s quite sure Dan doesn’t give him an option).

 

Once the movie ends, Mickey pretty much shoves Dan out the door, thanking him for the food and saying he must go because Ian’s really tired and needs to sleep, which isn’t a lie, seeing as how Ian was dozing off on the couch during the movie.

 

“Oh, what are you doing tomorrow?” Dan asks from the doorway.

 

“Working, of course. As I do every day.”

 

“Not you, you idiot. Not everything is about you, you know? God, you’re so self-centered! I meant Ian.”

 

“I’m not self-centered!”

 

“I’m going to this gay history museum I’ve heard about, and then I thought I’d explore the Castro a bit? I’m definitely curious about it.”

 

“Am I self-centered?”

 

“Oh em gee, that’s perfect! I’m totally taking you there! What time should I pick you up?”

 

“I am definitely not self-centered. And don’t you have to work?”

 

“Is ten ok? I don’t want to be up early. I am on vacations after all.”

 

“Ten is great! I’ll see you then!” He waves at Ian and blows Mickey a kiss as he leaves. 

 

Mickey shakes his head and closes the door, locking it.

 

“Do  _ you _ think I’m self-centered?”

 

Ian shakes his head, letting out a big yawn. “Not at all. You’re one of the most selfless people I know, Mick,”

 

“Oh. Really? Because Dan said…”

 

“He was teasing you.”

 

“Asshole.”

“He seems nice.”

 

Mickey sighs. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about him, I just… I guess I was hoping to avoid him. Should’ve know it’d be impossible, kid is like the plague. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good friend, he’s just…”

 

“Too much?”

 

Mickey groans. “Yeah.”

 

“It’s fine. I mean, I admit I was a bit startled at first, but he seems nice enough. And harmless. Loud, but harmless.”

 

“Thanks for being a good sport about it. And if he gets on your nerves tomorrow, feel totally free to tell him to shut the fuck up.”

 

Ian yawns again, stretching his arms over his head. “I’ll try to remember that.”

 

He helps Mickey take their dishes to the kitchen and throw away the containers.

 

“How come you didn’t tell him about me though?” Ian asks what’s been on his mind all night long. Why hadn’t Mickey mentioned him at all to someone he seemed so close with?

 

“Are you kidding me? You saw what he was like. If I’d told him about you he’d be asking me all sort of stuff I do not need him to know about. Also, he’d probably go with me to the airport to pick you up.”

 

“Oh. Are you… embarrassed of me?”

 

“What? No!” Mickey frowns at Ian, but his face softens when he sees Ian looking down, seeming ashamed, hands fidgeting with a napkin.

 

“Ian…” He gets closer and takes Ian’s hands in his and Ian’s heart starts beating a mile a minute. “I’m not embarrassed of you, and I’m not embarrassed of what we had. At all. If anything, you and our relationship were what kept me alive back then, and our history was what made me realize I wanted more from life and move here and find an actual, legal job. It’s what made me understand that I was capable of doing all this. You made me believe in myself, and you have no idea how grateful I am to you. I’m not embarrassed of you, but to be honest, it’s pretty much the only thing from that old life I’m not embarrassed about. I moved on, literally, and I don’t want to dwell on that shit anymore. I wanted to live my past behind me, and that included not telling people about it. And hey, I don’t know much about his past either. For someone who talks so fucking much, Dan can be pretty reserved as well. It’s a survival technique. Everyone here does it. You understand that?”

 

Ian nods. “Yeah. It makes sense.” He looks down at their joined hands and squeezes Mickey’s before letting them go. “Thanks, Mick. For everything.” He yawns again and rubs his eyes. “Good night.”

 

“Good night, Gallagher.” Mickey ruffles his hair as he passes towards the bedroom, making Ian smile. 

 

His head has barely touched the pillow before he’s sleeping soundly, feeling warm inside and out.


End file.
